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Revved Page 44

by Naomi Niles


  He smiled but didn’t say a word as we continued. “Harrison! How did you know?! How did you know I wanted to go on a boat?!”

  “Let’s just say that I am vigilant. I will keep it at that.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, then we headed to the deck. As he spoke to one of the attendants, I stood on the ledge of the deck. The boats were amazing. Speedboats, paddle boats and larger boats that looked like small cruise ships. A few minutes later, Harrison tapped me on the shoulder. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

  I intertwined my fingers with his, then followed him to one of the small cruise ships. After he helped me inside, the sailor climbed in behind us. One of the waiters led us to the deck inside of the boat. As we got to our seat, there was a trio of musicians standing almost 10 feet ahead of us. A violinist, saxophonist, and a bass player. I looked at Harrison as he pulled my seat out for me. “This is beautiful,” I said with a smile.

  “This is just the beginning.”

  He took a seat beside me, and a few minutes later, the boat took off onto the ocean while the band played softly in the background. He rented out the boat and hired a private chef to serve us hors d’oeuvres as we traveled across the water. I took him by the hand and led him to the outer portion of the boat. I leaned onto the edge while he put his arm around me. “Harrison, I…” I wanted to tell him more, but I couldn’t. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and that I didn’t want to imagine my life without his, but ever since a few months ago, I promised myself that I wouldn’t allude to marriage or anything like it.

  “I truly appreciate you taking me out here today. How you knew that I wanted to get on this boat, I will never know. But, I appreciate it.” I tipped up and kissed him on the cheek as we traveled smoothly across the water. The sun was suspended directly above us as we came back to the shore. I didn’t want the date to end, but I knew we couldn’t stay on the water forever.

  “Why is your lip poked out?” he asked as we got off the boat.

  “I don’t know. I am just thinking about things, you know?”

  “Things?”

  I fixed my mouth to say what was on my heart, but I kept the words inside. “Never mind. It is not important.”

  We walked through the sand and back to the car as the driver stood, waiting for us to enter. “Where to now, sir?” he asked when he got inside.

  Harrison responded, “We can head to our final destination.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I looked at Harrison with a curious eye. “Final destination? I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said with a smile. “You will enjoy it. I am sure.”

  I leaned my head against the back of the seat as Harrison put his hand on my thigh. A little while later, we stopped in front of the tall, glass building that we’d passed on our way to the beach. I smiled flashed onto my face. “We are going up there?”

  “Did you ever think that we wouldn’t? This is a special day.”

  “What makes it special?”

  Before he could respond, the driver opened the car door and ushered us out. Harrison didn’t answer my question, and I didn’t ask again. If he wanted to tell me, he would’ve said it already, so I just went along with whatever he had planned. Inside the building, the floors were marble. The hostess’s table was made out of crystal, and she smiled as we approached. “Mr. Zimmer? You are early.”

  “Indeed, Shelly. We are ready to proceed. Is that a problem?”

  “No, sir. We just finished preparations. Right this way.”

  “Harrison, what–”

  “Ssssh,” he said as we followed Shelly to the elevator.

  I grabbed his arm tightly as we rode to the top floor. My heart fluttered inside my chest as we rose higher in the building. The elevator chimed when we reached the top floor. “Enjoy,” Shelly said as she held her hand out for us to walk off the platform.

  As we walked into the room, I noticed a large, crystal ball hanging from the center of the room. One table covered with a black cloth sat front and center, and on top of it, there were roses. After we approached the table, he pulled my chair out for me to be seated. “Thank you, Harri–” I stopped mid-sentence when I turned to see him kneeling before me. In his hand, a small black box with a large diamond ring was sparkling like the crystal ball above us.

  “Caroline, you have been my backbone since the day Sarah died. I never knew that I would meet someone like you. I am just upset that it took me so long to see you for who you really are. I love you, and I can’t see a future that doesn’t involve you being my wife. And if that future is out there, I don’t want it. I love you, and it would be an honor if one day, I could call you my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Tears streamed from my eyes like a waterfall. I couldn’t find the words to say to him. I scooted closer and pressed my lips against his. “Yes, Harrison. Yes. I will be your bride.” We embraced, and at that moment, I felt complete. I felt like Sarah was behind us, nodding her head with a smile as if to question why it took us this long. Peace fell into my heart as he slid the ring onto my finger, and from that point on, I never looked back.

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  SEAL’D BY HIM

  By Naomi Niles

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Naomi Niles

  Chapter One

  Dwayne

  I knew that we were flying through the air, but I couldn’t fully convince myself that I was in a plane. The light hit the seat in front of me and took on an elusive quality as if it were a mirage reflecting off of the Afghani sands below us.

  Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.

  The sound seemed to rise up out of nowhere, almost like I had been dreaming and now I was waking up.

  Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.

  I was dreaming. I couldn’t imagine how it happened. The sound of the helicopter rotors drowned out everything, even my thoughts. I had to focus. There was a group of children holed up in a school less than a hundred miles from where we were flying now. It was my job to go in and take out the Taliban operatives holding them prisoner before they killed the kids.

  I tensed up and waited, watching as the Afghani desert passed below us. “Go! Go! Go!”

  I jumped out of the helicopter, my body suspended in that split second before gravity caught me and pulled me back down to the ground. I was staring at a patchy, yellow canvas with jagged gray lines etched in the sand. They called it Allah’s cat box, the place that he forgot.

  I could believe that. Nothing had changed there since Biblical times. The people still dressed in long pieces of cloth draped around their body. Their houses were crumbling mud brick, and they survived off of nothing but opium, wilted pot, and bread so tough it scraped against your throat going down. Life was cheap and fragile, not something to be cherished because it wasn’t worth living.

  It was no wonder the Taliban didn’t have a problem using children as human shields. Everyone was disposable.

  The next thing I knew, I was leaning against the back wall of a crumbling school, a concrete building with barred windows and a caved-in roof that’d long since been abandoned. I could hear the sounds of children, running around in the room on the other side, laughing and playing.

  No, I couldn’t think of the children. I was in the plane. I told myself that over and over. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. I tried to see the rows of seats in front of me as part of the material universe. They existed. I could touch them, and I could smell the air around me – but I could also feel the dust blowing into my eyes as I loaded my weapon.


  I couldn’t do this. I reached out to touch the headrest in front of me. Instead, I realized I was reaching out to the Afghani children staring at me, all lined up in a row, their eyes wide, like they thought I was going to shoot them.

  I shouldn’t have burst in. That was stupid. The children were meant to be a deterrent. The Taliban knew we couldn’t bomb the base and risk losing our rapport with their villages. We had to go in after the kids and hope that we didn’t get killed in doing so.

  The room was dark, save for the light coming in from a hole in the concrete roof. Behind the children, a tall shape was leaning against the back wall, like a pillar, black, save for the sheer fabric around her eyes allowing the woman to see through her costume.

  “Are you really going to kill these children?” I asked her in broken Pashto.

  My response was a hairy hand reaching out from under the burka holding an armed grenade. I looked at it, weighed my options, and decided to run, all in the time span of less than two seconds. I barely managed to get behind a crumbling, mud brick wall before I heard the crack, like the earth itself had been split in two.

  “No!” My throat still hurt from the force of that scream.

  “Howell!” I was back on the plane, and my commanding officer Jacobs was sitting next to me. “Get it together, soldier. You can’t let that happen.”

  “What are you talking about?” I never told anyone that I was shell-shocked.

  “You just yelled.” Everyone was looking at me. My head fell into my hands. “You’re going to need to learn how to stay in the moment if you want to make it on the outs.”

  I nodded my head.

  “How are you feeling about the discharge?”

  “Jesus,” I leaned back against the headrest. “I’ve been a SEAL since I was eighteen.”

  “You’re institutionalized. Reintegrating back into civilian life is a process. It won’t just happen overnight. Now, I need to know that you’re not going to have another flashback and start attacking people or something.”

  “What? You’ve known me for years. Have I ever done anything that stupid?”

  “No, but I’m not taking any chances. Drink this,” she handed me a shooter of whiskey, “and calm yourself down.”

  “Alright.” I downed the shot, ignoring the sickening feeling of the alcohol sliding down my throat.

  “What are you planning on doing about work?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I thought so.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. “My brother runs a security company in Chattanooga. When I heard that he needed help, your name was the only one that came to mind.” She handed me the card. In the middle, etched in dark green letters were the words, “Granger Security.” I stashed the card in my pocket.

  “Sounds like a lot of standing around and doing nothing.”

  “It’s something to consider.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a good job. They pay well, and you’ll be treated with the respect you deserve. If you want, I can call him when we land and set you up right away.”

  “I don’t see how I can turn down something like that.”

  “Smart boy.” She patted me on the shoulder and walked back to her seat.

  I closed my eyes and rested my head back, determined to get some rest. If I could get rid of this panic, slow my breath, and calm my heart, then maybe I could stay in the moment. It’d worked before. I just had to perfect the technique.

  I focused straight ahead and tried to get lost in the rhythm of the in and out. I could feel the world sliding away and my muscles relaxing. I smiled. It was working.

  I’d learned the trick from one of the other recruits. They were one of those semi-profound eastern philosophy types. They called it mindfulness meditation. It was a way for people to turn their mind away from anything that was distracting them from being fully present in the moment.

  I’d focus on my breath for a few seconds, then catch my thoughts drifting. Every time I did that, I thought, Breathe, like a mantra to bring my focus back to my breath and the world around me. I stuck with it until I started to forget where I was and drifted off to sleep.

  “Hey.” The sound of Jason’s voice jolted me awake. I opened my eyes. He was standing in the aisle. “Scoot over.”

  I did. “I was almost asleep.”

  “Sorry, Jesus. Can’t expect me to sit here and twiddle my thumbs the entire flight.”

  “You are the worst partner imaginable.”

  He laughed. “What’d sour pussy have to say?”

  “Her brother owns this security company in Chattanooga. She wants me to go work for him.” I sighed.

  “She wants your jock.” He elbowed me, and I scooted to the edge of my seat away from him.

  “I’m sure that’s the last thing on her mind.”

  “Please, a sour old bat like that — she’s probably got a vibrator stash the size of an armory.” He laughed at his own joke.

  I was getting tired of seeing his bald red head. “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t wait to leave, man.” He made a sound like his body was deflating. “The second we do, I’m going to find the nearest titty bar and drink until I forget where I am.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “I’ll bet you can’t wait to find something to sink your dick into.”

  “Guess so.” I leaned back and closed my eyes.

  “Isn’t it crazy? We’re leaving at the same time.”

  “Yeah… I’m getting tired, man. I think I’m going to pass out.”

  “Ah,” he groaned, “you’re no fun.” He finally got up and walked back to his seat.

  Jason had attached himself to me the moment he met me. At first I thought he was just lonely or upset about everything that we’d seen in Afghanistan, so I gave him some slack, but over time my patience started to wear thin. He would keep me up late at night asking about my life. At first, I didn’t tell him much, just quick one or two word responses, but he would keep pushing until I had to answer just to get him to shut up long enough to let me sleep.

  That was a mistake. The second I’d opened my mouth, he latched onto me like we were best friends. He followed me around everywhere, constantly yammering about one thing or another. He was vulgar and moody with the sense of humor of a grade schooler, laughing about farts and talking about boobs. I couldn’t respect a man like that.

  I was relieved when the Navy announced my discharge. I was certain that I’d finally get a chance to get away from him. That lasted for about three hours. Then he ran into the dorms to tell me that he was getting out the same day. Now, I was stuck listening to him talk about everything he wanted to do and how I should visit and drink with him and all the things that we could do together.

  I almost told him to leave me alone when I first met him, but it occurred to me that he would probably be hurt by it. He was sensitive. He internalized everything, and I needed to be able to rely on him when I was in danger. Now that we were leaving and it didn’t matter, I decided to keep quiet to avoid having to hurt his feelings.

  I went back to focusing on my breathing again, letting my thoughts pass me by with sense of detachment. I grew more and more distant as the time passed and eventually drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Gillian

  It began with a short burst of sound, quick but light, steadily increasing in tempo and magnitude, until it became a fully composed symphony, Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Little Swans.” I reached over and turned off my alarm, smiling. I imagined a troop of little girls spinning across the stage, their arms held high above their heads. It was a beautiful image, one I couldn’t shake. I’d work my whole life trying to perfect it.

  I tied my long black hair in a bun, donned an old pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt, and grabbed a black duffel bag before I ran out the door. Lexie’s ballet studio was a small, red brick building on the edge of downtown. She was standing out back leaning against her car when I pulled
up. I parked my car, grabbed my bag, and walked over to where she was standing, looking down at her phone.

  “Good morning,” I said in a sing song voice.

  “How are you, Gillian?” She put her phone away.

  “Excited for class.”

  “I just hope we don’t get too much trouble. One of the parents came in yesterday to sign up her three-year-old.”

  “A dance mom?” I asked.

  “Of course. When I told her the girl was too young, she screamed at me, saying that I just didn’t know talent when I saw it and her girl was going to be a star.”

  “You should’ve told her to get the little girl to plié.”

  Lexie laughed. “The look on her face would’ve been priceless.”

  “You have to have a sense of humor with these women,” I continued as we started walking to the back door. “They’re like rabid dogs, all of them hell bent on turning their daughters into the next Britney Spears.”

  “Dance is supposed to be fun and easy,” Lexie said. “It’s about expression, not sabotaging everyone you come across just to get your daughter on stage.”

  “I just love playing with them,” I said.

  “Your backhanded compliments.” Lexie rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, Ms. Halverson, what a wonderful dress. Isn’t it wonderful when you find great bargains like that?” She laughed. “It always takes them a second to get it. Their eyes just get wider and wider as they begin to realize what you’re saying. Then, all of a sudden, bam — you’re one of the haters and they’re obsessed with throwing every achievement in your face.”

  “You’re evil.” Lexie unlocked the back door.

  “They’re always so serious. I just wish they’d lighten up.”

  “I know. I came this close to banning them from sitting in on practice.”

  “There’d be designer shreds of cloth and hair extensions everywhere.” We walked through the hall into dance studio. Lexie flicked on the lights, illuminating the buffed wooden floor, the wall-length mirrors, and of course, the infamous barre.

 

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